This morning after small group, Abby and I thought it was a
great time to play some volleyball. I mean, who wouldn’t say no to a good,
sweat-inducing game at 7 in the morning?
Surprisingly enough, we ended up convincing enough people to
play. We got all hot and sweaty just before getting on the bus to head back to
Source Matelas.
Today was a work day in the village. The task was painting!
Muchhhh better than clean-up duty if you ask me. Throughout the day, we were
supposed to paint two houses. We saw all the bright colors of the buildings of
the MOH 500 houses, so we were hoping we were going to get to paint with some
fun colors today. Pink, bright blue, green… Try brown and cream. Not the fun
that we had hoped for.
But the kids were determined to make it fun anyways. I mean,
with a bunch of teenagers, paint wars will happen no matter the color. Lexi and
I were trying to paint the inside of a window cut out with brown paint. Almost
everyone knows the consistency of house paint. It’s supposed to be thick,
right? Well we were basically painting with dirty water when we got the first
tray of it. It was ridiculously hard to work with and we were both getting
extremely frustrated, let me tell you! Thankfully, someone else was able to
make it a bit thicker by mixing in some of the other paint from the bucket that
they had apparently mixed better. Still, we’re not claiming to be professionals
by any stretch, and we were getting it everywhere. Thank God for tarps and the
ability to wipe watery paint off a wall…
I was standing on a cement block trying to get to the top of
the window when I heard a blood-curdling scream. I thought that either one of
the girls had just found a tarantula, or someone was seriously hurt. Turns out,
it was just Haley wailing her rage at Chip. She had started a new trend by
painting her name on peoples’ shirts. Chip had walked up to Brian and swiped
his paint-laden brush across the belly of his shirt, where her name had been so
carefully painted. It was a pretty big offense apparently.
After we had started both houses, it was time to get lunch
back at main campus. There was some pretty interesting rice dish waiting for
us; Brian called it “lemon rice pound cake.” I’m starting to learn that the
less eye appealing meals are usually the ones that are the best tasting. It’s
strange, but a good rule to live by down here.
When we came back to Source Matelas after lunch, we split into
two different groups to finish the houses. I was in the group of the first
house and we had Tami’s iPhone. We had a few watchers that turned into helpers.
A little boy, for one, had come up on the porch and started dancing with me
while I was painting a big metal door brown. He was such a cutie. I had a blast
dancing with him. I’ve learned that, like a smile, dance transcends languages;
it’s no longer a barrier once the music starts playing.
There was also an older youth there. I’d say mid to late twenties. He was also a sweetheart. Kevin and him talked for a while before I got into the conversation. Yes, he spoke English. His name is James and him and Kevin swapped information so they could reconnect on Facebook. I cannot believe how many Haitians have a Facebook. It’s so strange to me. They don’t have air conditioning, or clean water, but everyone is walking around with a cellphone and has a profile on Facebook. Crazy.
Another thing that was pretty crazy was this 23-year-old man
who had quite the crush on Emily. He was chasing her around shirtless asking
her if she had a boyfriend back home and whether or not she had a Facebook.
Poor Emi was horrified. He was persistent though. He even came up and asked
Kevin about her! It was absolutely hilarious.
We finished up at the house and walked – with all of our
supplies, mind you – all the way back to the second house to meet up with the
other half of our group. They were still finishing up, so a lot of us jumped in
to help finish the job.
I think the most memorable part of the entire day, at least
for me, though, was after all the painting had finished. We got in a huge
circle and held hands to pray. The man of the house ended up praying. And this
was probably the longest prayer I have ever experienced. I was standing on the
porch, holding hands with of the Haitian men and Paige on the other side, who
was holding the hand of an elderly woman. Maybe two minutes after the prayer
started, this old women let out the loudest scream ever. I think she was saying
something to the effect of “hallelujah” but Paige and I were not at all
prepared for this.
Paige jumped ten feet and nearly landed on top of me. I had
jumped a little and looked up in shock to figure out where the beast of a noise
came from. When we finally collected the wits to figure out what exactly had
happened, we tried desperately to muffle the laughter. Every time we thought we
had our act together, one of us would start bouncing a little with quieted giggles
and the other would lose her grip a little. For the rest of the prayer, Paige
would have to keep pressing her forehead against my shoulder to keep us calm.
As soon as the prayer ended, Paige threw her arms around the
old woman, laughing, “I love you!” The poor old woman had no idea what was
going on, but it really was hilarious.
Earlier, we had all opted to just go back to the main campus
for dinner, covered in paint. Oh my God, you would never believe my excitement.
For all of you who stayed home and ate with your friends and family… I bet my
simple fried chicken, corn and French fries tasted so much better than whatever
you had. Even though it seems like a rather typical, boring meal, I have never been
so excited for food in my life. Seriously. It’s not that the food we’d been
eating all week was TERRIBLE… It was just that I didn’t like most of it and was
living on granola bars most days. So this American food was like heaven to me.
On the way home, we all decided to sing loudly and
obnoxiously. Haley and I happen to be musical soul mates. Apparently my iPod
song list looks identical to hers. Teenage girls, man. We’re all pretty
similar. However, it wasn’t all fun and songs. We all think we ended up getting
a flat tire along the way. Which is really pretty scary considering we were in
the middle of nowhere in some village. Who knows what could have happened. But
someone was watching over us the entire time, and we made it out alive.
A big favorite of the night was the fireworks. So, I don’t
know if I’ve mentioned this or not, but airport security is really poor. I will
get into more of this in post to follow, but for now: Chip managed to get a
bunch of firecrackers and about five Roman candles through two different
airports via his carryon. When he was looking for something else in his bag on
the plane to Haiti, he saw them in a back pouch. It’s awful and hilarious at the
same time. We had explosive fireworks on a plane with us… Shake my head.
However, I think the only reason we got them through was
because God wanted us to be able to celebrate American-style on the Fourth of
July. It was really amazing too. Along with our fireworks, God was throwing in
a bit of his own show with lightening. The sky was clear above our camp but all
around us, storms were flaring and lightening was shooting out of the clouds.
It was beautiful.
After that, a few of us played cards and Chip, Macy and I decided to make a pact to stay up until two in the morning after Brian had called it a night. It was really awesome getting to know a couple of the kids my age better. We’re all on very similar walks, so it was good to know I wasn’t alone in all this. It was really relaxing and chill too… until one of the guards walked up with his shotgun. I was sure we were going to get in trouble. But thankfully, I waved and said hello, he waved, cocking his head in an obvious attempt to figure out what the heck we were doing out so late, and with a final shake of the head, was gone. It was epic. A comical end to a great day!
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